


Presents

by hellolife21



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-03
Updated: 2012-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-11 08:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellolife21/pseuds/hellolife21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek leaves gifts for Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Presents

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd

It started with a dead squirrel on Stiles’s front porch as he left for school one Tuesday morning. He looked at it skeptically. There was no blood, not even puncture wounds of any sort. Stiles assumed its neck had been broken, for when he lifted its limp body with two sticks, its head lolled more than seemed normal. He looked around for a cat, or maybe a dog that left it as a gift, or forgot it’s dinner. There was nothing in sight. He dumped the squirrel in the small tin trash can beside the house and got in his jeep to go to school.   


Friday after school, Stiles found a rabbit on the steps of the porch. Again, no blood and no trace of the admirer. Stiles got a plastic bag from in the house and scooped it up. He disposed of it like the squirrel. 

On Monday Stiles found three rabbits on the porch. Perfectly lined up. Necks snapped. This was starting to alarm Stiles. Like his dad always said, three is a pattern. Someone was clearly trying to send him a message. And that someone was most definitely not a stray dog or cat, not with the way the rabbits were perfectly aligned.

Stiles cleaned up the poor furry animals and drove to school. 

At lunch he cornered Scott before he could go make goo goo eyes with Allison. “Dude, something weird is going on.”

“When isn’t something weird happening?”

“No, I mean, not wolf stuff. Like, possible psycho killer stuff.”

Scott narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“Last Tuesday there was a dead squirrel on my porch. I figured it was a cat or dog and cleaned it up. Then Friday a flipping rabbit turns up after school. Two is a coincidence right?”

Scott nods. “That’s what your dad says.”

“Exactly, so I ignore it. Then this morning, three dead rabbits. Three! And they were lined up. In a line! Animals can’t do that, Scott! People line up dead rabbits! I’ve see the hunting shows!”

Scott hold his hand up for Stiles to quiet down. “You’re yelling. How were the animals killed?”

“Broken necks I think. Why? I’m still receiving _dead animals_. That have been _lined up_.”

“I was just curious.”

“Why? Do you know something?”

“No, just wondering.”

Stiles flailed his arms and nearly knocked Scott’s try from his hands. “Oh my god! You aren’t taking me seriously!”

“Of course I am. Call me if anymore animals show up. Maybe I can get a scent on them.”

 

Friday night Stiles wakes up to the sound of footsteps on the roof. He had originally woken up to go pee, but the sudden clump clump of feet over his head froze him in his bed. Being on the second floor of his house meant that absolutely no one should ever be above him, and especially not at 4 in the morning. 

Stiles laid back in his bed and closed his eyes to slits to watch out his window. The footsteps halted at the eve of his window and then a dull thump could be heard landing on the roof in front of the window. Stiles didn’t see anyone in the window, but that didn’t mean nobody was there. 

After three agonizing minutes, Stiles began to think maybe he imagined the footsteps. Maybe it was hail, or tree branches. Maybe it was a really fat cat that climbed the trellis in the backyard and hopped on the roof. Or maybe it was a person, because holy god someone was now standing in his window.

Stiles clamped his eyes shut and held his breath, pretending to be asleep, or maybe even dead. Either way he wanted to be unnoticed. Thoughts raced through Stiles’s mind. Was this person a burglar? Did they know whose house this was? What were they after? The most valuable thing Stiles owned was his jeep. Was this person sent to kill Stiles? Was it a hunter who had seen him with the pack and thought he would be the easiest to take out?

Stiles peaked at the window and the shadow of a person was gone. He laid awake until the sun came up, and then an hour more before getting out of his bed and going to the window. His bat in hand, he opened the window and flailed it around. He didn’t hit anything but the roofing. 

In the street there was a dead deer. In the street at the end of the driveway to be more exact. There was no way a dead deer at the end of  his driveway was a coincidence. Nothing about this was a coincidence anymore. If three was a pattern, what was four? Stiles was afraid to ask his dad that question. 

Stiles joined his dad for breakfast an hour later after googling every variation of ‘what does it mean when you find dead animals on your porch?’ and only coming up with stories of cats bringing their owners gifts of affection. Which would be cute, if he owned a cat. 

“So, there’s a dead deer at the end of the driveway,” Stiles said into his bowl of cereal.

Mr. Stilinski looked up from his frozen waffles and cocked his head. “Excuse me?”

“Dead deer. End of our driveway.”

“Why?”

“Oh you know, early morning hunting. Didn’t want to drag it all the way into the house. The usual.”

“Stiles,” Mr. Stilinski groaned. 

Stiles dropped his spoon in his bowl and put his hands up. “I didn’t kill it, I promise. I just saw it from my bedroom window.”

“Did you hear gun shots last night?”

‘No, but I heard footsteps on the roof and then there was a dead deer in the driveway,’ Stiles wanted to say, but instead he settled for, “Nope.”

“I’ll clean it up after breakfast, it probably fell off someone’s truck.”

“Scott and I can clean it up. He should be here pretty soon. I don’t want you to throw your back out, Dad.”

Mr.Stilinski looked skeptically at Stiles. “Okay, but wear gloves. I don’t need you kids getting sick.”

Stiles nodded and continued with his cereal.

 

“So...anything?” Stiles asked as Scott crouched beside the deer and sniffed loudly.

“Yeah, actually. I can’t quite put my finger on it though. It’s familiar.”

“Familiar like, someone we know or someone from school? Someone that wants me dead?”

Scott rolled his eyes and stood up. “It’s someone we know. The rotting smell is clogging up up my nose, so I can’t tell who.”

Stiles sighed heavily. “Great. Someone we know wants me dead. Perfect.”

“Maybe they don’t want you dead.”

“What? Come on, Scott. Leaving dead animals for me. Emphasis on dead.”

Scott grabbed the back legs of the deer and dragged it effortlessly to the side of the road  where the trees of the forest met the side of the house. “Did you want live animals?”

“It’d be nicer.”

“What would you do with four live rabbits and a squirrel.”

Stiles crossed his arms. “Start a tiny animal circus. I don’t know! But it’d be better than dead with snapped necks.”

“Let’s go inside,” Scott said dusting his hands off after tossing the deer into the forest to decay. 

Stiles looked at the deer, helplessly sprawled on the ground, waiting for something to come by and make it it’s next meal. “That’s going to attract something big, dude.”

“Derek is the biggest thing in this forest. Trust me, you’re fine.”

“Who says that wasn’t what I was worried about?”

Scott pushed Stiles toward the house. 

 

Stiles dug through his clothes looking for a clean shirt for Scott since he had gotten pizza sauce on it from lunch, when Scott started sniffing around him vigorously. 

“What the hell?” 

Scott continued sniffing, pushing his face into the dresser drawer. Rifling through like a young puppy on the hunt for a hidden treat. 

Stiles retreated and stood by in mix of horror and confusion. When Scott started pulling shirts up to his face and then discarding them in a pile behind him, Stiles became concerned. “You really turned into a dog, didn’t you?”

“No, something in here smells weird.”

“Sometimes I put shirts back after I wore them.”

“No,” Scott frowned and kept cleaning out the dresser drawers.

“You’ll be picking that up and folding it too.”

“I found it,” Scott cheered, holding up an orange and blue polo. “This smells weird.”

“I haven’t worn that in months. I don’t understand why-” Stiles’s eyes went wide. “Derek wore that shirt.”

Scott shook his head. “What?”

“Derek needed a shirt because he had blood on his and Danny noticed. Anyway, long story short, Derek was trying on shirts and he had that one on for like 3.2 seconds. I haven’t worn it since it got stuffed to the bottom of the the drawer.”

“This is it. This is what the deer smelled like.”

Stiles’s mouth fell open.

“I think Derek is leaving you...presents?”

Stiles erupted in laughter.

 

Twenty minutes later Stiles was putting his jeep in park and storming down into the abandoned train station and up to the sad little subway car that Derek called home. The amusement gone once Scott convinced him that dead animals was how Derek was trying to say he liked Stiles. Scott had wanted to give Allison things all the time, like pens and books and small things until she liked him. 

“Derek!” Stiles yelled, voice echoing off the paint chipped concrete walls.

“What do _you_ want?” Erica hissed, striding out from behind the main subway car.

“I want Derek.”

“He’ll be elated to hear that,” she muttered, turning into the car and disappearing.

Stiles tapped his foot impatiently and thought about yelling. Derek was sure to hear him, the guy would probably hear him if he whispered. He was starting to feel ignored when Derek appeared in a pair of basketball shorts, dripping wet. 

“Scott’s gotten himself into trouble again?” he asked coyly.

“No,” Stiles said, tone flat. “I came to see you.”

“And why is that?”

“Oh I dunno, just thought we should chat. Get to know each other. Maybe bond a little. Maybe we could bond over the dead animals you’ve been leaving me!”

Derek rubbed the back of his head. Water dripped down onto the dry dusty pavement below. His hair was getting longer, Stiles took note of it. 

“I don’t know if you know, but it’s creepy. I don’t like finding cute dead things on my porch. Why not crows, or pigeon, or some annoying bird like that?”

“Because I can’t fly, Stiles.”

“Well, well, you could try!”

“Stiles.” Derek glared and took a few steps forward leaving only a few feet of space between them. “Did you really hate them that much?”

Stiles swallowed. Derek was so close. And Derek scared him, but he was definitely feeling more than scared. Almost aroused. Okay more than almost aroused. Why did Derek have to be wet? Why did his hair have to be longer? Why did he feel the need to notice these things? “I don’t hate them, they were just kind of, odd?” Stiles said. He didn’t want to offend Derek.

“Do you know why I brought you those?” Derek asked. He inched forward a little closer.

“Gifts? Scott said he wanted to give Allison gifts when he liked her. So you like me?”

Derek’s eyes focused on Stiles’s mouth. His hands came up to cradle the sides of Stiles’s face and his thumbs pushed against the soft skin beside his eyes. Derek brought their faces together and kissed Stiles harshly at first. He softened up as he controlled the urge, and Stiles started to respond.

Stiles felt dizzy when Derek pulled away. “You can bring me all the dead animals you want if you do that again,” he said, licking his lower lip and tasting Derek’s toothpaste.

Derek smiled and pulled Stiles in again.

 


End file.
